


Recrossing Tracks

by stellahibernis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Bucky’s MO is coming and going, Developing Relationship, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other characters in minor roles - Freeform, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery, Steve is (almost) okay with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 20:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12441318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: Steve wakes up on the bank of the Potomac, hurting and barely alive but elated at the same time with the certainty that Bucky is still there, that his friend is not completely lost to the Winter Soldier.Over the next ten years they keep coming together, in places ranging from enemy bases to tropical islands, sometimes by chance, sometimes by design. With every meeting they redefine what it means to be them here in a time so different from their own.





	Recrossing Tracks

**Author's Note:**

> Recently in my fics I’ve often had leaving as a central theme, and then having to recover from it, but this one happily turned into something different. While the pattern of them meeting again and again obviously includes the act of leaving, this story isn’t about that, but about how they come together, time and time again, and what exactly it means.

 

###  Day 0

When Steve regains consciousness his lungs are burning and contracting, and it’s not even the most insistent pain he feels. He can’t move, he can’t think, except he knows he’s not drowning, he’s not dead yet, and it must mean he didn’t hallucinate the glinting hand reaching for him just before he lost consciousness. He coughs out more water and tries to look around, only every little movement is like being stabbed with a thousand knives. He manages to roll on his side, but there’s no one around, just a trail of prints from tactical boots in the mud next to him, leading away. It’s not even a decision to try and get up to his feet, just his instinct pushing him to try and go after Bucky despite his injuries, but white hot pain flares all across his body and he blacks out again.

 

###  Day 2

He wakes up, fuzzy and floating due to the painkillers Bruce brought from New York earlier, the ones developed especially for him. When he fell asleep Natasha was sitting in the chair next to him, reading, but now Sam is there, completely asleep. The lights are low and out in the hallway everyone’s talking in hushed voices, so it must be night.

Steve doesn’t really know what woke him up, but he thinks there was something, a sensation or a bit of a dream that called him up to the surface again. Everything looks normal, as much as he can tell through the haze; the guards stationed outside his room are still there, and a nurse is hurrying past the room.

He thinks there is something odd about the shadows in the corner as sleep drags him back under, but maybe it’s just a wish.

 

###  Day 10

It takes Steve three days to gather the courage to actually read the file Natasha found for him. He must open it at least a dozen times during those days, but he never gets beyond Bucky’s face pasted inside the front cover, blue and lifeless, frozen. A terrible contrast to the service photo attached in the corner. Steve wonders where they got it, knows it means there were people at HYDRA who knew who Bucky was in the early days. Zola at least. He wonders too if they’d passed the knowledge on through the decades, if just days ago when they sent Bucky after him they’d known exactly what it meant. That would have displayed an incredible amount of arrogance, but not something beyond them, Steve suspects, considering they only just managed to realize shooting Captain America on the street wouldn’t have been good publicity.

Well, knew or not, joke’s on them because they lost, and Bucky’s free. At least as far as Steve knows and hopes; he’s already had nightmares of Bucky being recaptured by HYDRA.

On the third day after he saw Natasha and Fury before they took off, he brews himself a pot of coffee and sits down on the couch with the file on the low table in front of him. It’s all in Russian, which makes it more difficult to work through it but not impossible. Steve has a fair bit of Russian from the war, he’d found out then that learning languages had become easier with the serum, same as a lot of other things. Still, he needs to check a lot of the medical terminology on his Stark Phone, both for translations and definitions.

The folder is slim, and the information nothing like comprehensive, but there is enough to give Steve a picture of the horrors Bucky has gone through. There’s cryostasis, medical experimentation, mental conditioning, electroshocks, physical conditioning. The horrors keep piling one upon another, but Steve keeps reading.

When he finally makes it through it’s getting dark and his knees are stiff from sitting in the same spot for hours. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, has only drunk the coffee that got cold ages ago, but there’s no way he’ll be able to even look at food that night. Instead he takes a hot shower and scrubs himself thoroughly, but it doesn’t help, he can’t make himself stop thinking about any of it. Part of him doesn’t want to, wants to keep the details seared in his brain. Bucky was made to forget, and Steve wants to remember, both the man who was and what was done to him.

The man that exists now is still a mystery to him. Steve understands Bucky must have changed more than he has, even though he’s not nearly the same person who hang from the edge of the train after having failed to grasp Bucky’s hand. He does know that however much Bucky has changed, Steve is still going to be his friend, going to do whatever he can for him.

 

###  Day 23

There’s no blood on Steve’s floorboards anymore, and it must have taken a professional cleaner to get it all spotless. He doesn’t know who ordered the clean up, only that everything was done by the time he was discharged from the hospital a few days after the helicarriers went down. The wall still shows traces of the holes Bucky shot in it, they’re filled up and there’s new drywall over them, but the paint hasn’t been matched, and the new white patches stand out.

The neighboring apartment is empty now, since SHIELD no longer pays for Sharon to stay undercover guarding and spying on him. As she took her things away she apologized to Steve for having deceived him, but didn’t seem to regret it. It had also looked like she’d wanted to say something about him staying in the apartment, but had decided not to.

Steve knows for most people his choice to stay where someone had been, as far as they knew, killed right in front of him would seem odd, but he doesn’t care about anyone’s opinions. Sam hasn’t asked why he stays, neither has Natasha. She hasn’t even called yet, from wherever she is. Steve did get a postcard stamped in Puerto Natales, but he knows she’s definitely not there anymore, if she was ever at all.

The reason for Steve staying is simple: it’s a place where Bucky can easily find him.

He’s not just idly waiting, he’s immersed in making plans. He’s been digging through the information on HYDRA and Bucky from the SHIELD data dump with the help of JARVIS. He thinks there is a possibility of Bucky tracing his steps now that he’s free, and keeping that in mind Steve is compiling another list too, places that were significant to Bucky up until he fell from the train. There’s also the possibility that Bucky is just going to disappear, and even though he’s got connections, Steve knows in that case it’ll be practically impossible to find Bucky without some extremely drastic measures.

He puts in a few hours of work toward the planning after his morning run before heading out to meet Sam for lunch. Sam is back at his job at the VA for now, even though he has said he’ll come with Steve when he goes after Bucky, no questions. Steve feels guilty about it sometimes, but he also knows he wouldn’t be able to sway Sam’s decision. Instead he lets himself be persuaded to come to the VA for the afternoon, and truth be told it’s not really something he wants to avoid.

He pours coffee, he helps with stacking the chairs and rearranging the room, mops the floors at the end of the day. He listens to stories that are set in wars he doesn’t know, but familiar still. He doesn’t talk to the group, but he thinks now that one day he might, thinks they’d understand.

He says goodbyes to Sam and walks home. It’s a few miles but it might as well be nothing for him, and he has the time. It’s a beautiful night, calm even in the city, and Steve allows himself be hopeful, just a bit.

There is a postcard on the floor just inside the door to his apartment, apparently slotted through underneath it. For a second he just stares at it, stares at his own face. It’s from the Smithsonian exhibit, he’s seen the same image spread around the city on posters. He picks it up and closes the door behind him, wondering if it’s some kind of a joke by Nat, even though it doesn’t feel right, too simple for her.

He flips it, and there’s no address, no stamp. There are only three words written with what looks like a cheap ballpoint pen, the flow of blue ink uneven. The handwriting isn’t familiar, but Steve still knows who it’s from.

_ Don’t follow me. _

 

###  Day 24

He doesn’t wake up in the morning, simply because he never went to sleep. Still, as the light begins to grow outside, he’s roused from the reverie he fell into during the night. He’s been sitting on his couch, surrounded by piles of documents outlining his plans for looking for Bucky.

He cleared a space right in front of him on the coffee table, and on it rests Bucky’s postcard. He’s been staring at it all night, even when it was so dark he couldn’t really see the words. It still says exactly the same thing.

_ Don’t follow me. _

Steve stands up and stretches, his muscles tingling as blood flow returns. He’s been telling himself he’s considering, deciding what to do now, but it’s not really true. He knows what he’s going to do, he just hasn’t admitted it to himself because he doesn’t want to.

He’s spent days planning because he wants to find Bucky now that he’s not irrevocably lost, no longer completely out of his reach. Bucky’s in this world and every last fiber of Steve’s being is yearning for him. Still, what he wants more is to help Bucky, in whatever way he can, and it seems the only to do so is by letting go.

He swipes all the papers off the table and couch into a haphazard pile and stuffs them into a drawer. Sam has found it funny that despite the fact he’s perfectly computer literate, he still likes to have things on paper. It is a preference, but there is a point to it too, no one can remotely spy on him, they’ll need to break in first if they want to find out what he’s going to do. Besides, now it feels like a more definite action to put it all out of sight, instead of just closing files on screen would.

Last thing he does is to pick up the postcard, fold it in quarters, and slide it into his wallet. Then he goes out for a run.

He comes home three hours later, actually feeling exhausted in a way he usually doesn’t manage even running as fast as he did now, but he was aided by the lack of sleep and food. He grabs two protein shakes out of the fridge, drinks both and chases them down with a glass of water. After a shower he feels almost okay, at least enough to text Sam and Nat the change of his plans. Sam is at work and there’s no immediate reply, but Natasha calls in less than a minute. Steve doesn’t pick up, just texts one more word to her,  _ Later. _

Now he needs to find something else to do. If there’s one thing he’s learned from his visits at the VA, it is that idleness is dangerous. Truth be told, he does know what he wants to do, he doesn’t need time to think. He goes back to the drawer holding all his papers and extracts the ones with the information on HYDRA. Three hours later he’s got an immediate plan of action, and he’s also ready to talk with Nat.

 

###  Day 78

“I thought you were just going to help me with the intel on this,” Steve says when Natasha slides into his car just as he’s about to start the drive.

She’s cut her hair, dyed it rich golden brown and allowed her natural waves come through. She also seems less tense than when Steve last saw her, more than two months earlier.

“I was around, so I thought I’d come to see you. Lend a hand on the first time.”

“Not nearly my first time busting a HYDRA base, not even alone. You’re seventy-one years late for that.”

She shrugs. “Sam didn’t come? He seemed pretty keen on tagging along with you.”

“That was for finding Bucky, but this is different. And I’m keeping in touch, going to VA with him pretty regularly.”

“That’s more than SHIELD managed then. Would have been nice to see him, I miss him.”

“He might have come if you’d said you’ll be here.”

Nat sidesteps Steve’s light teasing, just ignores it a bit too pointedly. “Did you call Sharon?”

“No, but I saw her at Peggy’s one time. Turns out she’s her grand-niece.”

“Oh.” She’s clearly just as surprised as he had been. “Too weird then? Because I know you liked her, there was at least potential.”

“A bit too weird, but more than that, it’s really the hiding of her identity that gets to me. I’m mixed up with enough spy games in general, I don’t want them in my personal life.”

“Fair enough. Although you wouldn’t have escaped them if you hadn’t gone down in the plane and had made a life with Director Carter, you know.”

“I do. But it’s all what ifs, that would have been an entirely different life. I probably wouldn’t have minded so much, especially since we wouldn’t have been in the business of hiding things from each other.”

“What kind of a future did you envision, back during the war?”

“I didn’t. I mean, nothing concrete really. I hoped I’d get to have the dance with her we’d talked about, but I didn’t really dare to think any further. Never got the knack of it, since when I grew up most people kept telling me I had no future, that I’d be in grave sooner rather than later. Then there was the war.”

“Still haven’t got the knack now either?” It’s a bullseye, and she obviously knows it too, but it’s not that she wants to use it against him, as her next statement reveals. “Me neither.”

They drive a few miles in almost complete silence, Natasha only giving directions when they need to turn. Steve appreciates the double check, even though he looked the route through in advance and remembers it.

“Are you planning on coming to live in New York? I assume Tony’s been pestering you about it too,” Steve asks after a while.

“I might. He’s got a point, having a centralized HQ for the Avengers now that there’s no SHIELD would make sense. You’re thinking of moving.”

“Yeah, I probably will. DC is a bit far, and besides, if Tony’s going to do something under the name of the Avengers, I want to be there so I’ll know about it beforehand.”

“Good thinking. Sam will miss you though, and you’re probably going to neglect the meetings.”

“Actually he’s been thinking of relocating back to Harlem, already had before I met him. Apparently his mother is making noises about him living too far away. Besides, Tony’s already built something like three new prototypes of his wings.”

They come to the little town that the HYDRA cell is hiding in, and settle to wait for the cover of night in the corner of a dingy bar.

Half an hour before go time Natasha says, “You know you’re not the only one who’s decided to run HYDRA to the ground.”

“I know.”

“Yet you said you’re not going after him.”

Steve looks straight into her eyes. “I’m not. I said I’d respect his wish, but this is not that. I’m doing this for myself too, and I don’t think I should step away just because.”

Steve gets why she asks, what he’s doing now could be seen as him going after Bucky and he knows she thinks he shouldn’t. For himself, maybe, but also for Bucky. He knows she believes Bucky should be given space since he asked for it, and Steve does agree.

She stares at him for ten full seconds, then nods. “Okay, fair enough. How do you think you’re holding up?”

He notes the weird phrasing of the question, it probably means she has her own opinion regardless of what he says, she just wants to hear his. 

“About as well as can be expected, I guess. It’s not easy, but you know. Day by day.”

“It’ll get easier.”

“Has it for you too?”

“Bit by bit.”

They move to the last checks then, and once they’re inside the HYDRA base they have it cleared in record time, the operatives having had no idea they were coming. Steve enjoys working with Nat, as he has from the start. During the couple of years at SHIELD they trained a lot together, and it’s almost a second nature these days to coordinate their movements. Everything goes perfectly, and it feels like an achievement, little as it might be.

 

###  Day 157

The third HYDRA base Steve hits is new, barely operational. It’s set in an abandoned office building in Antwerp, and their surveillance system is a joke; bypassing it doesn’t take any effort at all. There are barely any operatives at the site, HYDRA has clearly just begun trying to get a foothold in the area, and Steve is only too happy to nip such aspirations at the bud.

He’s alone this time, creeping through the corridors in the empty part of the building toward the corner the group is operating from. So far he hasn’t encountered any guards, and he wants to shake his head at such lack of professionalism. Soon as the thought passes his mind, he realizes he’s not alone; someone is in the adjoining corridor coming toward him. He shifts on his feet and readjusts his shield ready for a throw.

It never leaves his hand, because the person that comes round the corner is Bucky. He’s got a throwing knife in his hand, clearly having expected Steve to be a HYDRA goon and wanting to drop him without the sound of gunshots alerting the enemy. 

Steve is shaken, for all that he knew Bucky’s been doing the same thing as he, he never expected them to just happen upon the same base at the same time. Hence he forgets everything else for a second and just stares at Bucky.

Bucky appears steadier than he did the last time Steve saw him. He’s got a different combat suit on, practical and armored, but one that’s less conspicuous, made in the style almost identical to a modern biker outfit, blending in well enough if he needs to walk around crowded places in it. There’s no mask now, and his hair is pulled back to stay out of his face. He too seems momentarily stunned by seeing Steve, but he recovers faster, holstering his knife and taking a few steps closer.

“Why are you here, I told you not to follow me,” Bucky demands in a furious whisper.

Returned to the situation at hand Steve too remembers to keep his voice low. “I’m not, I’ve been taking HYDRA down. I didn’t know you’d be here too.”

Bucky isn’t appeased. “Right, and that’s got nothing to do with me?”

The last shreds of confusion boil away from Steve with the suddenly flashing anger, and he struggles with trying to not yell at Bucky. “What, I don’t get to go against HYDRA? You asked me to not look for you and I haven’t, but I never agreed to give up doing what I think needs to be done. And HYDRA needs to be taken out. You’re right in that I am furious at them for what they did to you, but do you really think it’s the only reason I’m doing this? Do you think that’s the only thing I care about, that what they’ve done and aim to do to the whole world doesn’t matter to me? They needed to be destroyed by the end of our war, and I died trying to do that, but they persisted, and I’m mad as hell about it. This time I’m going to make sure they’ll be gone.”

Bucky’s clearly taken aback by the tirade, Steve can see him recalculating in his head, and finally Bucky raises his hand, placating. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Steve shakes his head, clearing out the anger. “Listen, I get this might be inconvenient for you, I know you want to be left alone, but I’m going to take these guys down, and you can come with me or you can leave. And if you come, you can leave after, I won’t try to follow.”

Bucky keeps looking at him, probably deciding whether to believe him, and Steve tries to not let it tear his heart apart, reminds himself Bucky has every reason to not trust anyone at all. Finally Bucky nods and gestures him to go ahead, gripping his assault rifle and falling into position at his back. 

They make a swift process through the building with two people clearing the adjoining corridors, and it’s so familiar, they fall into working together almost too easily, the muscle memory from the missions during the war is clearly still intact after all this time. They completely surprise the HYDRA operatives, and have them down and subdued before they even have time to think of fighting back.

When they’ve restrained and dragged the captives to the room that’s filled with camp beds, they start going through the equipment. Steve connects the flash drive he got from Tony to the nearest computer, the program on it will copy data from the system and clear it out afterward, leaving nothing for anyone that might come later. As he follows the progress, Steve keeps an eye on Bucky, who rifles through the equipment, tossing ammunition, surveillance devices, and stacks of different currencies into a bag. It’s probably how he’s been getting everything he needs, and Steve is all for Bucky using HYDRA’s own weapons against them, as well as their money for living. He’s earned everything a thousand times over.

They don’t talk, there are a million things Steve would like to say and none of them come out, none of them feel right at this moment. He’s not sure any of it would be welcome. He sort of gets where this want for solitude comes from, he’s talked about it with Nat and she explained the lack of trust toward everything and wanting to strengthen her own barriers when she’d first become free of the Red Room. Yet, it’s undeniable there’s still a connection between the two of them, despite all, more than just a flicker from the past.

Steve’s heart feels constricted even at the idea that he’s going to have to watch Bucky walk away in just a few minutes time, he wants to beg him not to leave, wants to grab him and not let go, but he’s not going to. He made a promise, first to himself and just a moment ago to Bucky, and he’s not going to go back on his word, no matter how hard it is. 

They’re out of the building less than ten minutes from when they wrapped up with the HYDRA operatives, and a few blocks away, in the shadow of a rundown old factory, Bucky pauses. Steve knows this is it, Bucky’s about to go, except he hesitates.

“Why do you do this alone? Seems reckless,” Bucky says.

Steve’s head is all the more conflicted, wanting to feel several things at the same time. There’s a rush of fondness and hope, because the question is all Bucky, but there’s a thread of annoyance mixed in, because really, the hypocrisy. Steve looks at him, as pointedly as he can, and Bucky shrugs.

“Just, you have a team, bet they’d have your back.”

It’s no less hypocritical really, and Steve stamps down on the bubble of happiness that means Bucky has definitely looked him up. He hedges for a moment, wondering if what he wants to say is pushing too much, but then, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t push.

“You have people too that will have your back, if you want.”

Bucky purses his lips, and Steve wonders if he’s just about to walk away, but Bucky nods at himself, clearly deciding.

“While you’re doing this, if you happen to find a book, red with a silver star on the cover, written fully by hand, all Russian, hang on to it. Tight. Don’t give it to anyone, not even someone you trust.”

“What’s in it?”

“Their notes on what they did to my head. Triggers.”

Steve knows of triggers, words tied to the brainwashing to compel one to do things. Natasha told him it’s more than likely Bucky has had some of them instilled in him during his conditioning, and that they’ll still be effective even without mind wipes. Even the idea makes Steve see red, to think that Bucky might even now not be truly free.

“I promise,” he says, and Bucky nods, seemingly satisfied.

Steve watches him walk away and disappear into the dark, not taking a single step to follow. When he can’t see or hear anything anymore, he returns to his car. He has JARVIS call local authorities, as well as update his status back at the Tower that he’s on the way home. He also asks not to be called unless it’s a serious matter.

He’s numb, because he doesn’t know how to feel really. It’s been five months since DC, and meeting Bucky was very much different from what he’s expected or hoped. He could tell part of Bucky’s steadiness was an act, he was putting up a front, but the simple fact that he even bothered makes Steve slightly more hopeful. Still, it’s a mess of happiness and devastation, only now it feels like it’s at a distance, not quite there yet for him to feel.

He’d say it’s a shock, except his mind rebels against it, nothing really happened to warrant one. For now, he concentrates on getting back to New York, hoping that the mess in the periphery of his mind won’t crash on him before he’s there.

 

###  Day 306

It’s not a rare occurrence for Steve to think his current job is fairly bizarre compared to anything he ever expected. When he became Captain America it was in the frame of being a soldier, and the war zone was his most familiar environment. Even with SHIELD, while his work was more varied, he still mostly had missions that were against other professional fighters and in environments more suited to combat.

Now that he’s been taking out HYDRA cells by himself, there have been all kinds of places he’s found them at; they’re laying low, and often it involves blending in. Still, conducting a mission in a suburb of Cleveland is a whole different matter. 

He’s happy though, since he’s there with Natasha and Sam, and he always likes working with the two of them. It’s been less than a year since they made friends with Sam, but they worked well together right from the start, and they’ve only become more tight knit group as time has passed. Out of everyone Steve has gotten to know since he woke up in the future, they’re the ones he feels closest to.

They’re not expecting a lot of resistance, just one person should be in the house, which means any of them could do this alone, but they want to be careful since they’re in a residential neighborhood. They want to be sure to contain the situation. 

Natasha came up with the intel this time, it wasn’t anything from SHIELD files, it came through her old contacts. Apparently the man living in the house is named Karpov, a former high ranking member of the Russian HYDRA faction. Natasha is fairly sure Karpov had something to do with the training of Winter Soldier, which is more than enough incentive for Steve, even when it appears the man hasn’t been active in a long time, and instead seems to be hiding from everyone.

They’re in civilian clothes, not wanting to attract any attention, and they’re making their move at night when the neighborhood is quiet and there’s less chance of them being seen. There is both a computerized alarm system in the house, as well as a more traditional booby trap at the door, obviously communicating the paranoia of the resident. JARVIS takes care of the first, and Nat of the second.

Once they’re inside it’s easy enough, and they have Karpov secured and bound almost before he’s awake. They check him for a cyanide tooth, but he’s apparently not that paranoid, before they go and search the house.

On the surface there’s nothing else suspicious in the house besides the entirely too effective alarm system. They find a very standard handgun, but that’s not weird, the weapon is a model that would be a very likely candidate for a civilian to have, and there are no files or other suspicious papers. In the basement they hit a jackpot though, since there’s a hidden room that turns out to contain a crate full of files, all marked with the familiar red octopus logo.

Right on top is a red book with a silver star on the cover.

Steve snatches the book, looks inside to confirm it’s filled with Russian handwriting, and slips it into his bag. Natasha looks at him, eyebrow raised.

“It’s related to Bucky’s conditioning. He asked me to be on lookout for it.”

He doesn’t need to add that it’s not going along with all the other documents, he knows Nat and Sam agree with him on that.

“I can get it to him,” she says.

Steve isn’t surprised by her offer, she hasn’t come out and said it, but he’s been almost sure, and now he’s completely so, that she’s had some contact with Bucky. Steve knows they knew each other before the time Bucky shot her, even though he hasn’t asked for details. He knows her time with the Red Room is tricky enough for Natasha without him poking in it. It’s none of his business unless she chooses to make it so.

It appears she has some way of contacting Bucky, which is more than he does, he hasn’t seen Bucky since that time in Antwerp. On the other hand, it doesn’t seem Bucky trusts her fully, considering how he asked Steve to not let the book out of his hands. It’s a bit of an awkward position for him actually, he’d never want to hurt her, but he is going to have to communicate Bucky’s lack of trust, because he’s not going back on his promise.

“Sorry. He told me to not give it to anyone, not even people I trust completely.”

It definitely shakes her, since Steve can see a shadow pass in her eyes. Sam can see it too, as much is clear from the shift in his posture. She probably considers pretending to be unaffected, but instead she lets her shoulders slump.

“Yeah, I’m actually not surprised. If there was something like that about me going around, I wouldn’t trust it with him either. We share a lot of experiences, and it helps to talk about them with someone who really knows, but we also share a lot of ruthlessness, and now that we’re free, self-preservation too. It’s not a good idea to give a power like that book contains to someone with those qualities.”

Steve pulls her into a hug, thinking as he always does that she’s surprisingly tiny. Sam comes too, and they all cling to each other for a second.

“You know, hugs are not a very smart idea if you want me to not get my hands on something in your bag,” Nat says, laughter in her voice, and Steve knows she’ll be fine.

“I’m trusting you to not take it.”

She wrinkles he nose as she pulls away. “I hate it when you do that, makes me have to be all honorable.”

They all laugh, and when they’ve made sure they have everything, Sam goes to get their car. They drop Karpov into FBI custody at the nearest field office, and start the drive back. They’re nearly in New York after Steve has been driving in silence for the last couple of hours, the others asleep, when Nat sits up.

“The reason he trusts you enough to be able to let you hang on to the book is because the two of you go way back, the roots of it connecting to the time before he was captured. I’m glad he has that to fall back on.”

There is a clear implication that she wouldn’t have anyone like that, the only people she has are from time after Red Room. He holds out his hand for her, and they hang on to each other in the following silence.

“It’s also what makes it so difficult for him to be close to you, because he’s so conscious of how much he’s changed and what has happened in between,” she says a few miles later. “It sucks, I know.”

It does, Steve doesn’t have to tell her, she understands him well enough. All Steve can do for now, and it feels so pitifully little, is to hope the distance between him and Bucky will wear down as time passes, that they will again find a way to be together.

 

###  Day 401

The information on the HYDRA base in Sokovia comes through Nat, with a recommendation that Steve go see what it’s about sooner rather than later. It seems like a fairly large setup, not a one person operation to infiltrate, and yet she didn’t tell him to take anyone with him.

Steve doesn’t like the spy games, but he can read them well enough most of the time, and right now he’s fairly confident he knows the source of Natasha’s information. Why she didn’t just tell him is anyone’s guess, but quite honestly Steve isn’t really that interested about the reasons. He has better things to do.

Natasha didn’t give him any specific information, so he starts from the town, pretending to be a tourist. The first thing he needs to do is find Bucky. Or more likely, let Bucky find him. He’s feeling warm all over at the idea that Bucky specifically invited him, even if it’s just to get access to the book.

It doesn’t take long; Steve notices a small sign drawn on the wall at the entrance to an alley. It’s meant for him, no doubt about it, because it’s part of the set they developed with the Commandos, one that only their team used. This particular sign means a dead drop. Steve follows the signs and the barely perceptible arrows, and finds a hollow spike jammed between old cobblestones. Inside is a piece of paper, written in code that was also used by them during the war.

It’s a proof that Bucky remembers, truly and for himself, because these things have not been made public, they were never documented well enough for them to be. Translating takes only a moment, and it’s an address right here in the city. Steve looks it up on his phone, sees it’s in a residential block, and heads out.

He doesn’t waste time trying to see if there’s anyone around. He’s been generally keeping an eye on his surroundings, he knows he’s not being followed, and he also knows Bucky is good enough to have set his hideout up without being detected, and wouldn’t guide him in if the place had been compromised. Other than that, to avoid attention the best strategy is to be completely confident, to look like you have a legitimate reason to be there. It’s probably the simplest of Natasha’s lessons.

Steve climbs to the top floor without bothering to call the elevator. A door opens just as he steps on the landing, and he walks in past Bucky into the small apartment.

Bucky clearly isn’t too worried about pretending to live normal life, since his assault rifle is sitting right next to his half-finished meal. There’s a pot on the stove, and when Bucky gestures Steve toward it he doesn’t even hesitate, just grabs a bowl for himself and digs in. It’s a thick stew, rich and flavorful, nothing like the things Bucky used to cook. He’d known how to cook before the war, had to, being a bachelor, but this is new. Steve decides to not wonder for now where Bucky learned, and instead is just glad he’s eating well. Better than Steve when he’s left to his own devices, apparently.

For now he doesn’t ask any of the questions burning in his mind. He knows this is a delicate situation, and right now even the fact that Bucky clearly wants him here is huge, something he wouldn’t have considered probable at all just a week earlier. Hence it’s easy to wait and see where this is all going, he’s conscious of how they’re both trying to find their footing with each other, cautious but determined.

After the lunch it’s time for business; Bucky shows him all he has on the HYDRA base, and he immediately sees what Bucky must have too, that there’s a way into the castle through the caves, and that even though it’s a large base they can handle it just by themselves. They spend a couple of hours refining the plan, and it too is familiar from the war years, the two of them working on details, papers all around. It’s serious work, and yet Steve wants to smile, because it’s like he’s found a bit of solid ground after wading in a swamp for years.

When they’re done they have time to kill since they’re not going until the early hours of the morning. There’s some kind of a festival in the city that day, and HYDRA will most likely be alert, thinking people might try to use it as cover. They’ll go early the next morning, when the vigilance must have dropped. 

Bucky’s attention shifts once they’re done with the planning, his focus becomes less pronounced somehow, he’s more relaxed, and Steve decides it’s time to bring the book out. He’s been conscious of it this whole time, as Bucky must have too, Natasha surely must have told him, but instinct told Steve to wait before bringing it up. He thinks now Bucky needed time first to get used to his presence, and not think of anything else.

Bucky takes the book, flips through it fast, but doesn’t pause to read, before nodding at Steve that it is the correct one. Bucky looks like he wants to throw it as far away from himself as he can, and yet he’s obviously relieved to have it. Neither really surprises Steve, now that he pauses to think about it. Bucky doesn’t ask him if anyone’s seen it, and the trust he has, that he believes since he asked Steve to keep it safe he has, feels both heavy and welcome.

Apparently Natasha didn’t tell anything about how they found the book, just that Steve had it, and so Steve explains about Karpov and what else they’d found. Hearing Karpov had been killed in FBI custody by an undercover HYDRA agent makes Bucky seem relieved, one less person who knows about Bucky and how to trigger him.

“You live in New York now.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but a conversation starter nonetheless. It’s also a potential minefield, but Steve decides to take a risk, to wander straight through. It’s something that needs to be addressed, and probably better sooner rather than later.

“Howard’s son, Tony, built us all apartments in his tower after the Battle of New York. Renamed it after the team too. We’re aiming to organize a bit more now that SHIELD is gone.”

“Does he know what I did?” Bucky’s question is entirely expected, and Steve hears the unvoiced question too,  _ Do you know what I did? _

“He does. It’s not too obvious in the files, but if you know where to start pulling the thread, the information is there.” Steve looks at Bucky, unflinching, and aches at the bitter twist of his mouth.

“And?”

“And it’s not going to be simple, it’ll be in the air for a long time I think, and it was tense between us for a while, but he’s not coming after you, if that’s what you worry about. There’s enough information on what HYDRA did to you that he gets you weren’t acting out of free will. Tony’s been burying himself in his work, which sometimes does wonders, other times not so much. Just a couple of weeks ago we had to have a conversation on how the global defense force he’s been envisioning is basically the same as Insight, and having power like that will never end well, even less so when it’s in the hands of one person.” Steve shakes his head, focuses again on Bucky, who looks like he wants to ask more, but dismisses the thought and goes for a different question instead.

“How are you so calm about this?” He sounds completely frustrated.

Steve snorts. “Trust me, I went through several punching bags the week I found out. Then I figured all I can really do about it is what I’m already doing, so yet another incentive to burn HYDRA to ground. And I’m not mad at you, don’t ever think that. You know why.”

Bucky looks like he wants to argue, but apparently decides it’s no use, which in itself is new. For all that Steve fully admits he’s the more stubborn one out of the two of them, it was never by much.

“You know why I asked you to not come after me?”

Frankly, it’s a question that’s pretty much on top of things Steve wants to know, and he’d expected it would take a lot of time before he’d find out, if ever. And here Bucky is, suddenly bringing it up.

“I have ideas, theories, but no. I don’t know.”

“Things from the past came back to me fairly soon after I dropped you at the river bank. Not all of it, but enough, and I went to the Smithsonian to make sure of our history. In my head was this contrast, what they’d taken from me and what I’d become, and I didn’t want you mixed up with it, didn’t feel right. That’s why I was so mad the last time that you didn’t just stay above it. But I get now it was unfair to expect you to just sit aside, that it’s not all about me.”

Steve hesitates, maybe it’s a wrong thing to say, and yet he has to, he wants to make sure Bucky understands. “I was always mixed up with it, there was no changing it now.”

“Yeah. But you know, up until Antwerp, the last time I’d seen you, actually you and not a photo or a recording, you had three bullet wounds that I’d put in you. So it kind of colored my perception.”

Steve wants to reach out, wants to take Bucky’s hand or something, but doesn’t. He thinks that kind of closeness wouldn’t be welcome yet. “They’re all healed though, even the scarring is gone, except the one on my stomach. That’ll need a bit more time but it too will disappear.”

“Still happened though,” Bucky says, and Steve expected nothing less.

“That doesn’t make the healing meaningless. Nothing will.”

Bucky is quiet for long seconds, staring out through the gap in the curtains, before finally looking at Steve. “I’m glad you still have that kind of belief.”

***

Later, when it’s dark already, they’re getting some fresh air on the tiny balcony. Or more precisely, since they’re both big men, Bucky’s sitting on the balcony and Steve is at the doorway sitting in the apartment, breeze coming through the open door. If he thinks about it, he’s honestly surprised by how easy it is with Bucky, how centered he seems. He’s still struggling, as much is obvious to Steve, but he’s dealing, and it’s more than Steve often dared to hope after finding out from the files what had happened.

It’s easy to talk with Bucky, both of the mission, as well as general things. They don’t reminisce, don’t talk of the past although Steve doesn’t deliberately avoid it either, and it feels like the right sort of compromise. It’s also easy to just be, let the quiet wash over them.

“Do you ever think of getting away?” Bucky asks.

“Not really. I mean, I was a mess for a long time, couldn’t really figure out what I was meant to do, and I was drifting, in both work and life. When I met Sam, just a couple of days before I found out you were alive actually, he asked me the same thing. I told him I wouldn’t know what to do, and it was the truth, but it also made me think that maybe I should.”

“But you don’t anymore.” Bucky’s looking at him, tilting his head, gaze curious and assessing.

“No. Since then, I’ve taken the reins for myself, and this feels right, this is what I’m supposed to do for now.”

“I do think about it, just leaving everything, shedding the past and going forward. Sometimes I think it would really be for the best.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Here I am. Might not be, after a while though. Might take other paths.”

Steve gets it, gets why Bucky would see it tempting, just letting go of everything that reminds him of what happened. It wouldn’t work for Steve, he’d feel like he was betraying his memories if he just left, but for Bucky there is such a massive watershed in between, such a mountain of pain that it would make sense to want it gone.

Steve knows that this means one day Bucky might disappear into the world, never to be heard from again, and it’s a difficult thought, especially since he now knows they still fit together. There may be hard edges and truckloads of baggage, but they still fit. All he can do is wait and see what Bucky decides.

 

###  Day 402

They set out in the early hours of the morning under the cover of darkness. It was easy to decide the time for the attack, between three and four in the morning when most people are asleep and even the most dedicated agents on watch tend to be lax and careless. 

They’ve hidden the book with Bucky’s triggers and left it behind, neither one of them is going to risk being captured with it, with a way to control Bucky’s head right there. Not that they think they’ll be captured, they’re confident they’re going to be fine, but there’s never certainty when going on missions. As soon as one starts to think there’s no way for bad things to happen, something will go wrong due to inadequate preparedness.

Wherever Bucky had gotten the schematic of the old castle and the underground structures, the information is sound enough, they find. They come into a deep underground lab, where they find a lot of Chitauri tech. There’s also Loki’s scepter, which Steve is all too happy to have found. It’s definitely not something they need in HYDRA’s possession, and he’s dreading to discover what they’ve been doing with it.

They hide the scepter, not wanting someone to come down and try to escape with it, and tear through the castle, silent for as long as they can. Same as in Antwerp, they work together seamlessly. It’s not exactly the same as it was during the war, for one both of them are much more effective, since they’ve got a lot more training now, but the basics are still there, the way of knowing each other, and it makes them even more dangerous than they’ve ever been.

Steve has missed this seamless cooperation, especially since the Avengers are mostly individuals working toward approximately same thing. At least with some of them it’s more like actually working together, and by now they have become a well oiled machine with Nat and Sam. Still, with Bucky it’s a whole another thing, it’s almost as if they’re part of each other, sharing instincts instead of just having gotten there due to experience.

It’s still a lot more brutal fight than any Steve has encountered so far during his hunt for HYDRA, even with most of the operatives having been surprised out of their beds, because it immediately becomes apparent none of them is going to surrender. As soon as it’s clear, Steve sets his jaw and blows right through them, working by Bucky’s side, systematically dismantling the force. Again it seems the leaders are rather less determined in their loyalty to HYDRA, because both the commander called Strucker and a scientist named List are captured alive. Strucker talks all too much, trying to get in their heads, and Steve unceremoniously knocks him out cold. It makes Bucky laugh, and he seems almost as startled by it as Steve is.

When they’ve made the whole base secure and are sure no reinforcements are on the way, they make a more thorough search around the castle. Most of it is empty, only sings of people moving around has clearly been for watch purposes. HYDRA members have concentrated their living quarters and research facilities in the lower levels, and it is very much apparent they’ve been conducting human experiments. 

Most of the cells are empty, but the two occupied ones are heavily fortified, electric currents running through the locks and barriers. Inside are a girl and a boy, their ages difficult to determine but they seem to be on the cusp of adulthood, their eyes much older than their bodies. They look at him and Bucky, never letting them out of sight, wariness apparent in every gesture. Bucky shrugs at him, the both of them thinking the same thing, that there’s no telling whether the two of them are hostile. At least they seem lucid, and there’s no way Steve and Bucky are leaving them here.

Bucky shuts down the power guarding the cells, and they heave the doors open before backing away, giving the two of them space. They come out slowly, both hesitant, and as soon as they’re out they reach for each other’s hands, grasping tight. They’re not afraid, and from that and the security of their confinement Steve knows there’s more to them than meets the eye.

“Captain America and Winter Soldier, this is an odd alliance,” the girl says.

“It’s older than either of those monikers,” Bucky says, and Steve can tell he’s keeping his body language neutral and non-threatening. He wants to smile at Bucky’s easy admittance to their past but doesn’t, he needs to see where this is going.

The girl nods, and doesn’t ask him to clarify. “What do you want with us?”

“Nothing,” Steve tells her. “If you need help, you’ll get it, otherwise you can go wherever you want.”

“Even if we volunteered to what they did to us here?” There’s a challenge in her now, testing. Steve thinks part of her wants them to turn out to be aggressive, and it’s all the more reason to try and understand them.

Bucky gives her an unimpressed look. “You may have volunteered, but seems you were more like prisoners now. Besides, how old were you when you agreed? Did they really tell you what they were going to do?”

“They told us we could have power,” the boy says, speaking up for the first time. Steve thinks he’s more temperamental than the girl, albeit also taking her lead in most things.

“Our parents were killed when we were children, us nearly as well, and we swore we’d never be as powerless again.”

Steve smiles at her then, charmed by the fierceness. “I can relate to that.”

She gives him a long, assessing stare, and Steve knows they’re still on an edge, the possibility of this coming down to blows is still there. “And what if the bomb that killed our parents was made by your friend Stark? His name was proudly emblazoned on it. What if we hold him responsible for our loss?”

“You’re thinking of revenge,” Bucky says, drawing himself to his full height. “Have you killed anyone yet? I don’t think you have. But I know this path you’re looking at very likely leads to that, and you need to consider very carefully if you’re going to walk down it, because it will change you forever. It doesn’t matter if it’s by your choice or not, if it’s for a just cause, for self-defense, or just waste, you will lose something when you take a life. And it’s something you’ll miss.”

Steve finds himself nodding by reflex, because there’s a truth in Bucky’s words, a hard one. “It takes from you more than you ever know to expect.”

For the first time the siblings look away from them and at each other, conversing silently the way Steve and Bucky could do back in time. Steve can tell what Bucky said connected, made them reconsider.

“What are you going to do?” Steve asks.

They glance at each other again, and the boy shakes his head, hesitance obvious in the gesture. The girl is again the one to speak.

“What if we say we’ll think about it? That we’re not saying we’re going to go after Stark, but not saying we’re not either. Would you still let us go?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I have faith in people. And the two of you have all your lives ahead of you and you deserve to try and figure it out for yourselves. Besides, I definitely don’t believe in preemptive punishment or confining people just because they might do something. I don’t know what powers you have, but I think you don’t have to fear anymore. So go, and use them the best you can.”

“And that’s it?” The boy is clearly incredulous.

“Well, if you come after Tony, I’ll be there standing between you and him. He’s my friend, and I don’t think he’s as responsible as you consider him to be. Definitely somewhat responsible, considering your age the bombs were likely sold while he was rather less invested in his company than he should have been, and as a result his adoptive uncle sold weapons to terrorists. For Tony’s credit, he put an end to it all when he realized, and Stark Industries is doing a lot of good now.”

“Can’t change the past,” the boy says, and from the corner of his eye Steve sees Bucky shift next to him.

“No,” Steve agrees. “And Tony would be the first to say that, he fully admits he should have done better, and he knows however much good he does now, it doesn’t change the fact the weapons they made did a lot of damage that could have been avoided. So he’ll probably understand where you come from. It’s going to be really ironic of me to inform he’ll have to be careful, since there are people who hold him responsible for their parents’ deaths.”

“How come ironic?” the girl asks.

“Because I killed his parents,” Bucky says.

“But the responsibility lies on HYDRA,” Steve adds, and Bucky shoots a halfway irritated glance at him but doesn’t argue.

They’re all quiet for a moment, then the girl nods, looking determined.

“We haven’t decided yet. But thank you for your help.” Her brother nods as well. “My name is Wanda and this is my brother Pietro.”

“And I’m Bucky and that’s Steve.”

Now Steve does smile, happy that Bucky has taken ownership of his name so much so that he’ll use it when introducing himself if he doesn’t have to hide his identity.

“It was the scepter of Loki that they used to give us our powers,” Wanda says then. “What will you do with it?”

“I’ll take it to Thor, so he can take it back to Asgard. It’s better it won’t be here on our planet,” Steve says.

Wanda looks at him for several seconds, her gaze intent as if she really could see inside him. Maybe she even can, since she nods, clearly deciding to believe him. She holds out her hand to Pietro then, and he picks her up in his arms. “I think we’ll see you again.”

They’re gone the next second, a gust of wind and an afterimage left behind, and Steve finds himself laughing. “That’s not something you see every day.”

They head out then as well, taking the scepter and whatever research notes they find, and Steve again intends to call the authorities as soon as they’re clear. It’s been less than a full day since he arrived and found Bucky, but he feels they’re infinitely closer to each other again, thinks they can make something of the future together. If only Bucky wants to, because Steve remembers the words, remembers that he’s been thinking of leaving everything behind him, and logically that would include Steve as well. After all, there’s a lot of baggage coming with him, and definitely not all of it good.

Still, when they’re parting, Bucky smiles at him for the first time in this century, small and restrained but real. And when he says, “See you, Steve,” there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that they’ll come together again. It’ll be easier to wait from now on.

 

###  Day 759

If Steve were to count them, he’d have a lot more happy and cheerful memories situated in bars of London, but the one of him mourning for Bucky in the ruins of one is so overwhelming that they generally feel like melancholy places to him, no matter how happy the crowd around him is. This night isn’t going to do anything for them to appear more cheerful to him either.

It’s the day after Peggy’s funeral, and Steve has managed to convince Sam and Nat that he needs some time to decompress alone, that he’ll be fine. He’s grateful they came with him, it was easier to go through the ceremony with them flanked on both sides of him, enveloping him in comfort. Still, his past is alien to them, and there are things Steve needs to sort out without them being able to help.

He’d gone back to the graveyard to say his goodbyes without people gaping at him, speculating about their relationship. The speculations are correct and yet wrong, people never seem to understand how much Peggy has meant for him during these few years after waking up from the ice. In the end, she wasn’t his girl that went ahead without him and was lost to him, not the way she was when he first woke from the ice. She moved along with the time and when he woke up she was still there, same and yet different, and it took a while for them to figure out anew their relationship. They did though, they found they still had space in each other’s hearts, even if those places were not the ones they once envisioned. During the last few years she was always there for him, and he was there for her, a true friend all through to the end.

When he was done Steve walked aimlessly on the busy streets until he found the bar he’s at now. He chose it because it seemed like the kind of a place where they wouldn’t care about who he is, would just keep filling his glass. The bartender probably recognizes him, but he doesn’t say anything about it, seeming to appreciate his desire for quiet.

He lets the chatter wash over him, and takes a sip of his scotch, smoky flavor sloshing inside him, but it has no effect on him otherwise. These days he knows better than to expect it. Sitting there helps him to decompress, to just let it all be there at the back of his head without the memories and responsibilities weighing him down. There’s the sorrow he feels for the loss of Peggy, as well as the stress that’s accumulating at work as they’re trying to carve a place in the world for the Avengers, a place where they can work within the system while still retaining enough control. It’s coming along, and Steve is hopeful it’ll work out in the end, but he knows there’s still a lot to do. He thinks the tentative contact made by the Wakandans and them wanting to be less isolated is going to help. He’s pleased the world is seemingly coming together again after the fallout of what happened in DC, but there are still uncertainties. For now, Steve lets himself not to worry about any of it.

Someone slides onto the barstool next to him, leaning closer than he’d like them to, and he fully prepares having to try and get them to leave him alone without causing an incident. Except the thought is swiftly driven away.

“This is an unlikely place to find you.”

It’s Bucky, in casual jeans and long sleeved t-shirt, his hair cut short. Steve hasn’t seen him since they parted in Sokovia nearly a year earlier, and there hasn’t been any sign of activity from him either; Steve and the Avengers have recently been the only ones flushing HYDRA out. He might have worried, but Natasha of course realized he would, and has kept bringing him news every once in a while. She hasn’t given him any details, and Steve has been under the impression that she doesn’t know herself that much either, only that Bucky hasn’t been in any trouble.

It feels surreal, to have just thought of how the last time he was in a bar in London he was mourning for Bucky, and Peggy came to pull him out of it. Now he’s here for her, and suddenly Bucky is next to him.

“How did you find me anyway?”

Bucky gives him a quick half-smile. “By chance, actually. I just happened in here, looking for company.”

It’s a phrase that takes Steve back, Bucky looking for company always meant he wasn’t really going dancing, but instead intended to find some fast girl to fuck. It’s obvious the intent is the same now. Steve takes a quick look around the place.

“So how are you still here, half the people in the bar are looking at you.”

“Yeah, well, three quarters of them are looking at you,” Bucky retorts, smiling. He seems more comfortable in his skin than the last time, not so wary in his civilian clothes.

“I’m definitely not here for that.” Steve empties his glass, gestures for a refill.

Bucky’s gaze softens. “I know. I was sorry to hear she’s gone.”

Steve looks down at the grain of wood on the bar top. “She had a good life.”

“I read the eulogy, and she clearly did great, but it’s got nothing to do with you missing her.”

“No. It doesn’t. It feels like a tradition, sitting alone in a London bar. Last time it was all bombed out, though.”

“Yeah, I think I prefer this, service is probably better,” Bucky says as the bartender fills both their glasses.

“I prefer you not being dead.” Steve immediately wants to bite his tongue. It’s true, but he’s not so sure it’s okay to say it aloud, considering how much it has cost for Bucky to be here. At the very least it must be a complicated matter.

Bucky gives him an unimpressed stare. “Don’t. I know you think you just put your foot in your mouth, but it’s okay. I’m glad you’re happy I’m here, it would be worse if you weren’t.”

It’s strikes Steve hard, the idea of Bucky being back and people that knew him turning their back to him. Itäs obvious it would be so much worse. It’s never going to happen, but even the thought makes him feel queasy. So while it’s not easy for Bucky, Steve is pathetically grateful for being able to help, even a little.

Bucky continues, “I admit there were times when I thought it would be better if I hadn’t survived, but I’m still here. And I’m going to be here.” He looks at Steve straight then instead of just occasionally glancing at him. “You said you weren’t looking for company, earlier, and I’m guessing you meant it in all the different ways. Do you want me to go? If you worry about me disappearing on you, don’t. I’ll find you again soon if you need time by yourself right now.”

Steve considers it, and there is a part of him that wants to brood in peace, but on the other hand, it’s Bucky. “I don’t know,” he says, torn between the options.

“Okay. How about, I’ll sit here, and if you at any point feel like it’s too much, you’ll tell me?”

“Deal.”

They empty their glasses again, get refills. It’s obvious Bucky is just as immune to alcohol as Steve is. He decides too, that he is grateful for him being there.

“I’m keeping you from what you wanted, though.”

Bucky bumps his elbow. “Don’t worry, I can get to it later.”

Steve doesn’t think, the question just pops out of his mouth. “Do you ever worry about breaking someone? I mean, not due to loss of control, just because everyone is so fragile compared to us.”

“Yeah. Every time. You do too?”

“Yep. It’s bad enough while sparring, but sex is so much worse. It’s why I don’t bother that often,” Steve admits.

“It’s a good way of being close to someone though, uncomplicated, no expectations if it’s just that. Good way of remembering I’m a human.”

Steve aches at the admission, that Bucky still has to wonder about something like that, and he also wants to burn HYDRA to the ground. Not so different from any other day.

“Did it help, the book?” Steve finds himself asking, even when he’d earlier decided he wasn’t going to.

Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“It helped. I’m almost done with it, there are some residual things knocking around, but no one’s able to order me to do anything I don’t want to anymore. Wanda helped me actually.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. I met her and Pietro again about half a year ago. Turns out she can go into people’s heads, and she helped me. It was hard to trust her so much, but needs must, I wanted to get rid of it all.”

“I’m glad you found help.”

Bucky gives him another crooked smile. “I had help even before her, this annoying guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, and is doing pretty well at it.”

Steve finds a smile now, for the first time that the day. “Hey, I left you alone when you asked. How are Wanda and Pietro doing, anyway?”

“Looked like they were fine, they’ve looked into Stark, and don’t mean to go after him anymore. He’s not their favorite person, but at least it’s not coming to blows against them.”

“Good, that’s great. They deserve to figure out their lives in peace.”

They keep drinking, in silence most of the time, but it’s easy and companionable. It almost feels like a new routine, Steve thinks, him and Bucky finding each other here in the future, coming together again and again. Maybe this is how it is for them for now at least, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.

When they part as the bar closes, Steve feels better both about Peggy and his grief, as well as Bucky. The uncertainty has lessened again, and now he’s confident they will meet again soon. They’re both on their way to mend.

 

###  Day 1244

Steve is tying up the knocked out guard when the door to the basement room he’s been held in bangs open and he dives for the feeble cover of the overturned gurney. Not that he needs to, he realizes a second later, because it’s Bucky, inexplicably dressed in a tux. Bucky trains his gun at the guard on the floor, and Steve goes back to the restraints.

“Fancy seeing you here, Buck.”

“Thought I’d come to rescue you, but I see you’ve pretty much done it by yourself already.”

“Yeah, well, it was getting boring, lying around and being gaped at. If you’ve got an exit plan ready, I could do with one of those, though.”

Bucky hands him his spare gun, or one of them anyway, Steve is sure he’s got still more on him, and they head out. Steve falls back to guard Bucky’s rear, automatically checking out the blind spots, while adjusting to the situation. It’s more than a bit surreal, with Bucky suddenly there, resembling James Bond more than anything with his impeccably styled hair and suit. Besides that, there’s the adrenaline, not to mention quite a bit of embarrassment of having been abducted, as well as the receding aftereffects of whatever they had on the IV to keep him unconscious.

“What’s with the get up?” Steve asks as they emerge from a side door to a landscaped garden of what appears to be an opulent manor. Seems like he got nabbed by high-class criminals, although he’s not sure he feels any better about it.

“They’re having a party, needed to blend in.”

Bucky quickly leads him to the side of the house where the valets have been parking the cars, and gets into an honest to god silver Aston Martin. They speed away without anyone trying to stop them.

“You really had to have the Bond car too?”

Bucky grins at him. “I’ll have you know the devil’s in the details, have to play the part to the full extent. It belongs to the guy whose invitation I used. Besides, it’s not that often I get into this side of spy work, so might as well enjoy the trappings.”

“Thought you were done with spy work in general.”

To Steve’s knowledge Bucky hasn’t been active recently, instead he’s been laying low and trying to figure out how to lead a mostly normal life. He hasn’t had to rely on hearsay this time, they’ve seen each other every couple of months on average. Steve still has no way of contacting Bucky, he hasn’t pushed for it even when it makes him feel like he’s dangling at the end of a barely there thread, but Bucky has made a habit of finding him, appearing into his life every once in a while. They talk and catch up, and every time Bucky seems a bit more settled, a bit more at home in his skin. He’s not the Bucky Steve knew during the war, definitely not the one that he lived with in Brooklyn, but he’s still Bucky, in ways that can never change.

Steve tries to be honest with himself, no matter how hard it might be, and the truth is he wants more than these occasional meetings, he wants to share everything that makes up Bucky these days, wants to share everything of himself in return, but clearly it doesn’t work like that anymore. 

It’s obvious the life he leads suits Bucky, and Steve can’t find it in himself to begrudge it, not when Bucky’s had to go through so much to get there. Nor does he resent Natasha, or Wanda and Pietro for the things they get to share with Bucky and he doesn’t. He’s happy Bucky has support, in whatever way he needs, even if it can’t be him. Bucky talks to him about these things, about how he’s getting on in life, and it helps him deal with it, at least he knows, even if he can’t be a part of it. At least Bucky lets him in even when it comes to the difficult things, and in return Steve does his best to do the same.

Steve does want more of Bucky, it’s inevitable really, has been ever since they first shared the tiny apartment in Brooklyn and later the unit in the war. He’s gotten used to the idea that if Bucky is around, he’s close by. He always knew it wasn’t going to last, that eventually they’d have to separate, due to marriage or whatever other reason. Now it’s happened, and the reason is nothing Steve could have foreseen, but here they are, in yet another period of their lives, one where they no longer live in each other’s pockets, and Steve is getting used to it. It’s always good to see Bucky, even if it’s while escaping from abductors. Maybe even especially then.

“Seemed like a worthy exception to make,” Bucky says, and parks the car at the curb.

They switch to a much less flashy sedan, Bucky changing his tux and tie for a black leather jacket, and now, with Steve in his regular street clothes he was wearing when he was grabbed, he no longer feels like he stands out next to a much more put together Bucky, a feeling he got used to during his young adulthood well enough. Bucky peels off from the curb as soon as they’re in the car, and hands out a burner phone to Steve.

“Text Romanova we’re out, and laying low until they’ve cleared the situation.”

Steve does and gets a thumbs up emoji as a reply. “Honestly I’m surprised she let you come alone.”

“She didn’t really, she texted me when you first went missing, and when I looked at it through my own channels it turned out I was in the vicinity.”

“So you told her you were coming to get me while they were left to worry about it?”

“I gave them my intel, there was just no way they would have made it here for the party, and that was a good distraction.”

“So what was this all about anyway?”

“The people that nabbed you are in the business of acquiring and delivering things for a price, regardless of what the item is. They’re supposed to be very professional.”

“They were, smart enough to keep me unconscious by a continuous drip of some sedative, only the cannula came loose as they moved me, and I came to enough to dislodge it again after they’d reinserted it. Then I just needed to wait until I was less woozy. Their cuffs were a joke, though.”

“Yeah, not many have the kind that can hold us at hand, and in theory they shouldn’t have needed them if you were unconscious. Last I heard the Avengers are going to disrupt their operation, so the deliveries are going to be indefinitely postponed.”

“So who tried to buy me? Do we know?”

“Yeah. It was Rumlow actually, no doubt with some stupid revenge plan. They were waiting for him to come for you tonight.”

“But he’s not?”

“He came down with a really bad case of a bullet to the brain from half a mile away.”

“Well.” Steve takes it in. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. And thanks for coming for me, I know you like the quieter life.”

“Any time, Steve. Besides,” Bucky grins, “I have to admit it was fun emulating Bond.”

***

Bucky’s safe house is a tiny cottage outside the town. Steve suspects it’s a place where he’s come to lay low, he’s said that most of the time he prefers cities and being around people, but that sometimes he wants a stretch of quiet. The house is well stocked, and there’s enough hot water for showering. Bucky popped in first, leaving Steve to make a call to the Avengers and convince them he’s entirely fine, and now he’s washing away the grime acquired during his captivity. At least he doesn’t feel anything from the drugs he was given anymore, so they must have been a simple sedative, nothing more exotic.

Steve leans on the tiles, letting the adrenaline wash away, wondering how the next few days will go. It’ll be the longest stretch he’s spent with Bucky since the war, and he’s not apprehensive exactly, rather he’s conscious there’s a fairly good chance that things will change for them due to this disruption to the pattern they’ve so far fallen into. He’s not worried about it, by now he’s confident that whatever pops up during their prolonged stay together they’ll manage to work it out.

Coming out of the shower he asks, “If you were Bond, who was I supposed to be? Ursula Andress?”

Bucky pauses scrolling on his phone and lays it down on the table, looks at Steve and tilts his head. The shift is swift as a blink of an eye, suddenly the air is charged and he’s acutely aware the only thing he’s wearing is the not too large towel around his hips. 

“You could probably pull off the white bikini,” Bucky says, and well. There’s no mistaking the look in his eyes.

Steve expected a change but this is yet another thing, completely out of the left field. At least he thinks so, he can’t help but suddenly wonder if his question was him prodding at the ice, even without really realizing it. What he does know is that they’re standing on a precipice. He could laugh it off, could make a joke of it and Bucky would take it, they’d continue being friends just as they always have, never becoming more than that. Truth is though, Steve is honest enough to admit to himself it’s not what he wants, and that now he’s finally brave enough to pursue more.

He’s not in the mood of trying to be subtle, nor is there any reason to go slow judging by Bucky’s expression, open and ready for anything, but just waiting, not asking anything of him. Hence he just cups his pecs and says, “Might be a bit uncomfortable.”

He’s still not used to the speed Bucky now has in his reserve, and even though he sees it, he’s completely arrested by the fluid movement, which means Bucky’s already crowding him before he’s fully conscious of what’s happening. Not that he wants to be anywhere but right here, hands landing easily on Bucky’s hips over his sweatpants. Bucky’s hands are a contrast of hot and cold on his sides, and even the last bit of hesitation on how far this’ll go is dissipated when Bucky bends down to lick a lingering drop of water from the hollow of his throat.

Bucky’s all business when he pushes Steve on his back in the middle of the bed, and quickly roots through his bag before climbing on top of him. Steve’s head is reeling, he’s wanted this for so long, had fantasies he thought would never be real, and so he pushed them away, tried to find other things to want. They persisted though, and now some of them are becoming true. It’s all too much already, and Bucky has barely touched him, he hasn’t really touched Bucky.

He jolts at Bucky’s metal hand on his cock, almost overwhelmed by the sensation. Bucky straddles his legs, slicks the fingers of his right hand and goes on to prep himself. Steve pushes himself up to sit, even when it’s almost too much effort with Bucky’s hand sliding up and down his cock, distracting him. Steve reaches for him, runs a hand down Bucky’s back, down to join his fingers.

“I don’t think this is how James Bond does it in the movies,” Steve says, mouthing at Bucky’s throat, tasting the first beads of sweat pearling up on his skin.

“Oh, fuck Bond,” Bucky huffs, voice strained with pleasure, and Steve laughs into the crook of his neck.

He rolls them over so that he’s on top of Bucky. “That can be arranged.”

Bucky helps him maneuver, demanding with his hands, and soon Steve’s cock is right at his entrance. Bucky steadies him then, looks into his eyes.

“Remember when you said you worry about breaking your partners?” He pauses only for a second to let it sink. “I’m not breakable.”

Steve pushes in then, and Bucky’s fingers are tight at his hips, leaving bruises, because he knows too that Steve doesn’t break, and Steve is keen on showing it. First though, he bends down and kisses Bucky. He does it because he wants to and he can, because for some reason they haven’t yet. He savors it, the catch and slide of Bucky’s lips, the nip of teeth on his lower lip, the intrusion of Bucky’s tongue. When he pulls back to catch his breath Bucky’s mouth is red and slick, his eyes shining, and only then Steve pulls back and thrusts in, reveling in the gasp it draws from Bucky.

 

###  Day 2019

The fall winds are cutting into his skin, but Steve barely registers them. After all, they’re much less severe than the ones in his memory, burning his fingers as he held on to the side of the train carriage, freezing tears on his cheeks.

He’s not crying now, even though his chest feels constricted the same way it has been for two years now. Two years that have gone by while he’s heard nothing from Bucky.

He doesn’t know what went wrong, not really. He can guess the reason, but he doesn’t see why it made Bucky drop out of radar, not only his but Natasha’s too. She had gotten a message from him saying he needed distance, and he occasionally checks in to let her, and as a result, Steve, know he’s alive, but nothing more. Bucky didn’t tell Natasha what exactly had him spooked, had answered all questions with silence. After half a year Steve had finally caved and told her what happened the last time they were together, but she couldn’t even then give him anything concrete, nothing but guesswork.

It digs into Steve because when they last parted, there was no indication Bucky was about to disappear on him. They’d needed to lie low for five days while Tony and Nat took great delight in dismantling the criminal organization that had taken Steve. Normally he would have been annoyed to not be in on the action, but not that time, not when they’d spent more time naked than clothed with Bucky.

It hadn’t felt like a goodbye when they parted. Bucky had smiled, rested his forehead against Steve’s, and said as had become their tradition, “See you, Steve.” It had been much like any other parting, just more intimate.

Steve has been wondering if it’s something to do with their past, the closeness they shared that makes Bucky now need the distance from him, even before he disappeared. If it’s difficult to allow himself to come back to it now that everything is changed. It’s why Steve hasn’t pushed, why he never asked for a way to contact Bucky when one wasn’t offered.

Now he regrets that decision, he wishes he had some way of getting his words to Bucky, even if he’d never get an answer, even if Bucky didn’t even look at them. It would help, he thinks, just a little. Would make him feel less like he’s been left hanging, strung up to wait for something that might never come. Now all he’d be able to do would be to yell his words down the mountain, and that wouldn’t help at all, so he doesn’t.

It looks different here, compared to his memories. There’s no snow, and the river is running free at the bottom of the ravine, water green and blue rather than the black of winter. The train tracks have been carried away, no sense leaving the metal lying around unused. The sleepers made of timber can still be seen at places, rotting away and covered by grass. It’s quiet, which makes it all the easier to hear the echo of Bucky’s scream in his ears.

There’s a trill of the phone from his pocket, and it snaps him back to reality. He’s not too keen on picking up, but it’s Sam’s ringtone, and he promised to keep in touch before setting out.

“I’m just checking in since you haven’t,” Sam says, admonishment clear in his voice.

“Sorry. I’ve been occupied the last few days, it wasn’t easy coming here.”

“Where are you, exactly?”

“At the ravine.”

“Wha—? Oh. You know, when you said you wanted to see Europe without it being in the middle of a mission I didn’t expect this, but in retrospect I really should have. That’s not smart, Steve.”

“Probably not. I just needed to come back.”

“At least tell me you’re revisiting some more cheerful places too.”

Steve actually snorts at it. “It was the war, so everything was pretty much horrible. But I was thinking of going to Paris, to see Louvre again now that they have all the art actually in there.”

“You should definitely do that, instead of moping after that asshole.”

“How’s it going there?”

“Same old, quiet. But you know that, you would have gotten a call back otherwise.”

“Yeah. Honestly I’m kind of surprised nothing has happened yet, I figured I’d only get about five days of vacation before there’d be a crisis big enough for me to be needed back.”

“And there you are, five weeks in. Anyway, Tony redesigned the wings, more power, less weight, which is great, but he changed the dimensions a bit and now the shield sits funny on top. Feels like it’s going to blow away. So he’s back to tinkering with them.”

They chat a bit more about lighter things, and Steve starts the trek back toward town. There’s no use staying any longer, it won’t do him any good. Sam talks about the team, and he is happy to hear all the gossip. The Avengers are a bigger group now, more work for him as the leader, but it’s rewarding too, to see the good things they achieve, as well as the individual development of the members.

Around a year ago Steve convinced Sam to take up the shield and the mantel of Captain America. He’d felt like he’d done what he could with it, that there was a need for a new one, someone that wouldn’t be saddled with as many expectations as Steve has been. There are of course expectations resting on Sam too, some of them different ones compared to those on Steve, but he’s managing it all well, getting over the obstacles and finding his own way of holding the title. He’s doing great in his personal life too, he ends the call by gushing over the date they had with Nat a couple of days earlier. She’d texted Steve already with a lot of emojis, and he’s absolutely delighted to know they’re happy.

Steve himself hasn’t been doing too well personally, even outside of the issues surrounding Bucky. He’s honest enough to admit it to himself, and he’s been taking steps to correct it. Part of it had been giving up the shield, since he’s been feeling like he’s slowly losing himself, and the shadow of Captain America hadn’t helped. It’s the reason he’s come back to Europe as well, to try and get a hang of Steve Rogers, who he was, and more than that, who he wants to be now.

A major obvious thing he’s had to consider is the way he obviously doesn’t age. He’s not that old yet, just thirty-four excluding the time in the ice, but there should be changes in him, even small ones, and there just aren’t. He’d finally caved and asked Helen to run some tests, and she’d concluded his gut reaction was true, there was no visible aging happening, his cellular replacement process seemed to work at the rate of hundred percent. She’d speculated that in time he might start showing signs of aging, only it would be so much slower that it didn’t manifest yet. Or he might be completely ageless.

These days Steve often thinks back to a party they had at the Tower around a year after he’d found out about Bucky. It hadn’t differed that much from any other party, but there was a moment when Thor had poured some Asgardian liquor in his glass like it was nothing, while explaining it wasn’t meant for mortals. Maybe Steve should actually ask Thor if he can see something about Steve, about his projected lifespan.

There’s also a question that invariably rises to his mind when he thinks of his apparently unnaturally long lifespan, namely whether it’s the same for Bucky. They’ve already established that many things are, and based on his files Steve estimates Bucky does look younger than he should, that he spent several years awake during his captivity with HYDRA. Those years don’t show on his skin, only in the shadows of his eyes.

His thoughts having looped back to Bucky, Steve has to wonder again if he’s gone for good, if their last meeting has passed already without him knowing. Yet, the idea feels all wrong, and he doesn’t want to believe it. The world seems to have a habit of bringing them together, and Steve believes in his heart of hearts that it will do so again.

 

###  Day 2396

It’s early morning, the sun is barely up, but Steve is already cooling down from his run. He’s slowly walking across the Compound grounds, mentally fortifying himself for the day ahead. Not that he thinks it’ll be a particularly stressful one, in fact it’s supposed to be his day off, but in his line of work one never knows, and he has to be ready at all times.

Still, he’s surprised when there’s a presence next to him, since even Natasha usually doesn’t get this close to him before he senses her. Then again Bucky has always been a special case, and apparently even after everything his subconsciousness still trusts Bucky to be safe. If he thinks about it, it’s not exactly the assessment he’d make, considering there’s no one else with such a power over his heart that has felt all too fragile over the last three years and change.

He snags a hold of Bucky’s wrist, fully conscious he’s holding on so tight it must hurt, would break the bones of a non-enhanced human, but he doesn’t lessen the pressure. He’s fairly sure Bucky’s not going to disappear, he wouldn’t have come in the first place if he meant to do so, but Steve’s not going to take any chances. Not now that there is a possibility for him to get some answers.

Bucky doesn’t seem to even notice the constricting hold, he looks at Steve so intently. “Why haven’t you settled down with anyone?”

Steve gapes at Bucky. “That’s what you start with? Really?”

Bucky has the grace to look abashed but doesn’t back down, instead staring mulishly at him, and Steve is reminded that he’s not the only one of them that’s stubborn.

“Why does it even matter?” Steve is utterly confused by the conversation they’re having, so much so that all the questions he wanted to ask are driven out of his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I just haven’t found anyone like that, and it seems kind of daunting to settle down when I’m living a life that has so many risks that I might die any day, and on the other hand if I end up living a long life, then the fact I don’t seem to be aging is probably going to cause a few problems.” Steve shakes his head, deciding to let it all out. “Another reason why it never worked was that every time I even considered the possibility of trying to start something with someone, all I could think of was you.”

Bucky’s clearly stricken, and for the first time tries to pull his hand away, but Steve isn’t letting go, can’t take the risk of Bucky leaving again before he figures this out, especially since he thinks he’s just starting to understand.

“Wait, is that what it was about? You ghosted because you thought you’d get in the way of me getting, I don’t know, a family?” The purse of Bucky’s lips is clearly an admission. “So it wasn’t because you realized you didn’t want it.”

Bucky’s shoulders slump, there’s surrender in him now, and Steve finally lets go, confident Bucky’s not going to run. He rubs at his arms, suddenly cold. It is after all October already, and he’s only wearing his light running clothes.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want it, I promise. I’ll tell you why. I don’t know if it’s an explanation you want, but still. Can we go inside though, you’re freezing.”

“Could do with a breakfast too,” Steve says. He feels lighter already, there’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he’s suddenly confident they’ll be fine. He’s angry still, probably will be for a while, but they can work through it.

Steve pops in for a shower, and when he’s done he finds Bucky in his kitchen, a tall stack of pancakes in the making. He gets them coffee, by now knowing that Bucky prefers it with just a splash of milk. Back before the war Bucky would put every bit of sugar he could get his hands on in the coffee. The pancakes are good, and Steve is able to enjoy them despite the looming conversation.

“Back before the war,” Bucky says as he’s chasing the last drops of syrup with the final piece of pancake, “I knew what it meant, the way you looked at me sometimes. I knew what you wanted, and I kept telling myself I didn’t.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m scared of how much I do. The last time I just let it happen, I didn’t allow myself to think, but after we’d parted I freaked, plain and simple, and now were here. I’m sorry.”

It’s maybe wrong to feel relieved of someone confessing they’re afraid, but Steve is nonetheless, because it means he won’t have to deal with Bucky having realized he’d made a mistake, that he didn’t want them. He would have dealt with it of course, if it had been the reason for Bucky disappearing, he’d go back to them being friends and not push for anything else, but he is relieved he doesn’t have to. The fear and doubt he can handle.

Steve reaches out his hand, palm up on the table, and after a moment of hesitation Bucky grasps it. “Is there something I can do to help with it?”

Bucky shakes his head, a hint of sardonic smile appearing. “It results from one of those things on which we have a wildly different perception, I think.”

“It’s to do with your time with HYDRA,” Steve guesses, and bullseye.

“That. And you know, it’ll always be complicated with me, and you deserve to have a life with a bit of normalcy.”

“What, a house in suburbs, a picket fence, a dog, and one point seven kids? You know I never wanted that.”

“I know, it wasn’t an opportunity before, but now it’s different.”

Steve can see now where these protestations come from, and he’s never been a patient man, but for this, for Bucky he can be, can explain as much as he needs to.

“Listen, I never learned to wish for future when I was a kid. I always knew I wouldn’t live long, and most of the time we were mainly concerned where the next rent and next meal came from, but even in better times, I still never really looked ahead. I went to the art school, but even that wasn’t so I’d have something for later; the school itself was great, just to be able to go. I never expected to make a life of it, because that kind of thing didn’t happen to poor kids like me. Not to mention I probably wouldn’t have seen my thirtieth birthday. And when I woke up here, I still didn’t really know how to look ahead. I have tried, Buck, but those dreams still aren’t the most regular kind. I could see myself having a dog but that’s about it, I’m not after normalcy.”

Bucky is quiet for a long while, staring into the air, before he squeezes Steve’s hand a bit. “You know, I calculated it once, and I must have been awake something like ten to fifteen years when I was with HYDRA, and it’s been over six years since DC. When I look in the mirror I don’t see them.”

“It terrifies me, whenever I let myself think of it, that most people I know will age while I’m staying perpetually young,” Steve confesses, and Bucky finally looks up to him.

“I know. I do. It’s easier, to be in the same boat.”

At the admission Steve finally stands and hauls Bucky up to his feet too, wraps his arms around him. Bucky holds on just as tight, trembling a bit.

“I don’t think I can stay, though. I don’t even know why, it’s just how it is. I’m sorry.”

Steve pulls away a bit and gently lifts Bucky’s face to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, honestly. We’ll make it work. Can we just agree to not disappear for months at a time?”

Bucky nods. “I already put my number on your phone.”

“I’ll call you at weird hours of night when I can’t sleep,” Steve says, and from the way Bucky’s fingers press into his sides he knows Bucky gets it, gets what it means that he’s willing to let him know when he’s feeling shaky. He always was better at hiding his pain than allowing anyone, even Bucky, to see it, but he thinks they’ll need this honesty now, it’s the only way it’ll work.

Steve closes in then and kisses Bucky, really allowing himself to fill the contact with meaning, to communicate to Bucky how much this really means to him. He’s met with almost hesitancy, and he knows it doesn’t mean Bucky is unsure of them, but that he too is taking steps into really allowing himself have it, finally acknowledging it means more than just sex, more than just physical release.

They have ways to go still, there are the threads of residual anger to work through, and Steve doesn’t doubt Bucky will be gone soon enough again, maybe even before the night, but this time he has a way of contacting him. Such a simple thing, yet everything is changed again.

 

###  Day 2705

Steve wakes up in a hospital. He knows it before he opens his eyes, before he even manages to remember the reason for him to be there; rampaging overly large lizards and a little girl in danger. Steve remembers she’s fine, remembers handing her out to Sam before collapsing due to the venom the lizards had in their teeth. He certainly hopes that particular battle is properly wrapped up by now, and whoever was responsible for creating them is in custody.

He’d open his eyes except it feels like too much of a chore, he’s tired and every muscle in him hurts. Must be the poisoning still in effect, although being awake is a good start. He shifts and only then realizes the pressure on his wrist is a hand resting on it, fingers on his pulse point, and he finally takes the effort to pry his eyes open.

Bucky’s already leaning toward him when he finally manages to see something. His vision is shot, hazy, and the colors aren’t quite right, but he sees enough to tell Bucky’s in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, which means the battle must have ended some time ago for him to have gotten out of his tactical gear.

They’d just met with Bucky, as they do every few weeks these days, when Steve got the emergency call. Bucky had come along, shooting the lizards with the kind of high powered rifle a non-enhanced person wouldn’t be able to use without it being mounted on something. Bucky on the other hand was doing fine standing up. It was the first time Bucky worked with the Avengers, but no one even batted an eye when he came along, just said that the more there were the faster the lizards would be dealt with, which was the only thing anyone cared of.

Bucky offers him a drink of water from a straw, and Steve realizes there’s a strange acidic taste in his mouth, no doubt remnants of the venom.

“How long was I out?”

“About a day and half, it’s just past midnight, otherwise there’d be a lot bigger crowd in here.”

Steve fumbles a bit, his coordination shot, but he manages to clutch at Bucky’s sleeve. “I’m glad you stuck around.”

Bucky smiles and presses a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “We got interrupted just when things were getting interesting if I recall correctly, I’d like to finish that.”

Steve tries to laugh, but is all too tired for it. “You’re going to have to wait for a few days for that to happen.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Steve can see it now, the remnants of the scare Bucky must have had, and tugs at his sleeve. “Come on, that chair doesn’t look so comfortable, and you should sleep too. Plenty of room in here.”

It’s true too, the beds at the Compound medical center are bigger than normal hospital beds, not really built for two people, but they can fit without too many problems. Bucky gives him an unimpressed glare.

“I saw your scans, the venom attacked through circulation, and I know you must be hurting literally everywhere. That sounds like something better endured while having the whole bed to yourself.

“No,” Steve just says, and it’s a sure sign of how scared Bucky must have been that he gives in without further protest. 

It takes a bit of work, but soon enough they’re curled together, Steve’s head comfortable on Bucky’s shoulder, and despite how every inch of him is aching he’s happy as he slides back into sleep.

 

###  Day 2712

Bucky stays during Steve’s recovery, first popping in and out of the medical center, and after Steve’s been released he stays in his apartment, helping Steve get through the everyday chores until he’s back to full strength. It doesn’t take long at all, only a week from his first regaining consciousness they’re in one of the practice rooms, getting some light sparring done.

It’s the first time they’ve done something like this, they’ve only fought together on missions up until now, they’ve never trained together. Not that this is a real session either, just something to get Steve back to moving and work out the effects of the long rest. It’s easy with Bucky, since Steve doesn’t have to worry about his strength, doesn’t have to hold back, and they work out a good sweat over a couple of hours.

Steve has noticed before that they still work perfectly well together; even when he was only half sure of what was going on in Bucky’s mind they still were in perfect sync physically, and that part has carried over even as Bucky has opened up more to him. Now the light sparring feels almost like dancing, and Steve can’t help but think he’ll have to get Bucky on the mats some time later when he’s fully recovered, to see how fun it’ll be really going at it.

For now he has to content himself with the easy contact, and tugging Bucky into the shower with him afterward.

A snack and a few hours later they’re tangled together in Steve’s bed, again in need of a shower, but for now Steve is content to lie there, his head resting on Bucky’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat and enjoying the metal fingers in his hair. Bucky twitches when Steve’s fingers that he’s been absentmindedly running across his skin find a ticklish spot, and Steve smiles and marks it for later.

He’s perfectly happy in that moment, and yet at the same time it reminds him how he isn’t all the time. He wants this, Bucky close to him, and he does have it, but it’s not enough. He wants more of it, more often, wants Bucky all the time, and he can’t. Bucky’s not ready to come back for good, may never be ready. Steve doesn’t know if Bucky even wants to, he hasn’t dared to ask because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the answer is that Bucky’s happy exactly like this, coming and going. He’s not sure he’ll be able to handle his hopes getting dashed into ground. After all, Bucky seems more centered every time he comes back to Steve, so clearly he’s getting what he needs away from him.

Steve wants to ask though, recently every time he’s been with Bucky the question has been itching at the back of his head. He’s even opened his mouth at times, only to say something else, only to state it wasn’t anything. The fear has so far kept him in check, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes to the surface.

Sometimes he thinks Bucky even knows what’s pressing in his mind, from the way Bucky sometimes looks at him, but Bucky hasn’t brought it up either, hasn’t drawn the lines, and so Steve keeps living in uncertainty.

They stay as they are, not moving, just resting together, and yet Steve notices the change. Maybe Bucky tenses, just a bit, maybe he squeezes Steve just a bit harder for a second, and as the metal hand moves to rest on his neck, he already knows what’s happening, what Bucky’s about to say.

“I have to go.”

Steve props himself up to look at Bucky. “I know. It’s okay.”

He’s not even lying, somehow, for all that he wants more and is terrified he’s hoping for things that will never be real. What they have now is still good, an embarrassment of riches compared to how things were right after he woke from the ice. It’s been getting better, and now they seem to have reached some kind of a plateau, a state where they regularly meet, and text and call in between. If this is all there ever is, Steve will be a bit disappointed, but he’ll get over it. He knows he will, and happily, because he does have Bucky still.

Bucky frowns just a bit, asking, “Are you sure?”

It’s a challenge, Steve thinks, for all that it comes out gently, and it would be an opening for him to ask his question, but he’s not at all ready. For now Steve takes it as a yet another sign that they will need to talk about it sometime sooner or later.

“Sure.” Steve pauses, and as Bucky keeps just looking at him, he goes for distraction. He’s meant to talk about it with Bucky anyway. “I’ve been thinking of moving back to Brooklyn.”

“Good,” Bucky says, emphatic. “I know staying here at the Compound is practical, but—”

“It rather encourages me to work all the time. I know.”

“Do you know what you want, yet? A house or an apartment?”

“No, I haven’t been looking yet. It was only just recently that I decided to go for it. I’m not even sure where to start looking, a lot of it is so different from what I remember.”

“Don’t buy something you’ll need to massively renovate, though.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure I could figure it out.”

Bucky shakes his head smiling. “You probably could, but that’s not the reason. You’re just so busy that if it needs a lot of work you’re going to live in a half-finished place for the next ten years at least.”

“Point,” Steve concedes.

Bucky tugs him up into a kiss then, and Steve lets it happen, kisses back just as enthusiastically. Since Bucky’s going again, it’s better not to waste time, they can talk anytime.

 

###  Day 3147

“Steve, get a move on.”

Bucky’s chest is heaving, his hair is curling into a dark halo on the pillow, his lips are red and swollen, pupils blown, and Steve could stay here forever just looking at him. Bucky shifts his hips, trying to get leverage, and his cock shifts inside Steve as well, pulling a low groan out of him. He decides he’s not going to stay quite forever, that’ll be excessive since they can always do this this again, but he is definitely going to take his time.

He catches Bucky’s hands that try to grab at him, intertwines their fingers and pushes them to the mattress on either side of Bucky’s head, leaning forward. Only then he starts to undulate his hips, slow and steady. 

If they’d just started, Bucky would be planting his feet and getting the leverage to fuck up to him, but he’s come twice already, and as a result he’s lying almost pliant under Steve, easily maneuverable, not even running his mouth any more, just panting and moaning as Steve slowly increases the pace.

They’re on an island in the middle of the Pacific, on an honest to god vacation. It’s their fifth day already, and frankly Steve is a bit surprised there hasn’t been any kind of crisis that he’d need to handle. It’s been wonderfully quiet, even his friends seem to have decided to give him space and not text all the time.

It’s even better that the trip was Bucky’s suggestion, a deliberate choice to have the two of them spend ten days straight together. It’s their longest stretch since the war, provided they’ll make it until the end of the vacation.

They come nearly at the same time, and Steve collapses on top of Bucky, but only for a second, because it’s too hot to stay in a close contact. He flops down on the mattress next to Bucky, and doesn’t close his eyes, just keeps looking. If he had just a bit more energy he’d find his sketchbook and draw Bucky just like this, in his post-coital relaxation.

***

They take a walk on the beach in the evening when the sun is down low in the horizon and the breeze makes the heat feel just right, comfortable instead of oppressing. Bucky wades a bit into the sea, and Steve doesn’t take his eyes off him, reveling in his presence, and again his heart seizes, because he’s so happy during these moments, and for all that they’re together on the regular basis, it’s still rare enough that each and every one of them feels all too precious, all too breakable.

Bucky turns back to him, and the smile fades away from his eyes. Steve realizes then he’s shown maybe too much, and that they’re at yet another turning point in their intertwined lives.

Bucky comes back to him and pulls him close, arms tight around him. “You look sad.”

Steve rests his cheek on Bucky’s shoulder and grasps a hold of his shirt. “I’m not sad, just thinking.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t your happy face. What is it?”

Steve thinks of deflecting, but Bucky pokes at his side, insistent, and he can’t hold it in anymore. “Do you think this is going to be it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Our lives. Coming together and separating again, year after year.”

His eyes feel hot all of the sudden, and he squeezes them tightly closed, because he’s not going to cry about it, he doesn’t want to, he’s happy and Bucky shouldn’t think otherwise. Bucky’s arms tighten again around him, holding them flush together. 

“No, it’s not. One day, some time relatively soon I think, I can come home for good. To you. There’s no other home for me.” He rubs his hand up and down Steve’s back.

“You shouldn’t force yourself, though. I know you’re happy, doing what you do. I can tell, because every time you come back to me you look just a bit steadier. If you need that, need to get away and wander, then it’s okay, this is more than fine.”

“I know it is. And I’m not forcing myself, it’s just natural progress.”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Steve confesses, his face still buried at the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“Of course you didn’t, you’ll carry all the world like Atlas if people only let you. But I know you, and honestly, I’m glad you do want more than this, that you want me to come home to you for good. It’s a big part that’s helped me along. Even when I go, it’s like a light guiding me back, and I would have been lost without it.”

Steve nods, his nose rubbing on Bucky’s neck as he clings on tight, and there’s just a little edge of desperation in the way Bucky holds onto him too. The question that’s been burning in his mind for years has now been answered, and he feels lighter than he ever remembers. He knows they’ll probably go on like they have for a while yet, Bucky coming and going, but from now on there won’t be any uncertainty in it. Now he knows the path they’re walking on, knows where it’ll lead.

 

###  Day 3653

It’s four a.m. when he slots a key to the door of his house. At this hour even Steve has to struggle to be alert, even when he hasn’t been on a mission like he has for the past week. It wasn’t anything too strenuous compared to their usual fare, but there’s always stress involved, and he’s drained. He hopes he’ll get to take it easy for at least a few days.

He allows himself to remember what day it is, that exactly ten years ago Bucky pulled him from Potomac. Other people would use a different detail from that day as an identifier, but that has always been the most important part of it to Steve, the certainty he’d gotten that his friend wasn’t gone for good. The years feel both long and short.

He taps in the code for the alarm on automatic, and it’s only when he’s taking his boots off that he notices someone has been in the house, actually still is. The spot where he usually leaves his boots is already occupied by a pair that’s definitely not his, and on the shoe rack there’s another additional pair as well as a pair of unfamiliar running shoes. A black leather jacket is on a hanger, and a Glock in a holster hangs from a peg behind it, easily reachable if needed, but not immediately visible.

Steve drops his duffel on the hallway rug and almost in daze walks to his bedroom. On the way he notes details that are new, books here and there, a military grade laptop on the side table, a red blanket that’s seen a lot of use but is soft to his touch.

At the door to the bedroom he pauses, can’t bring himself to step forward, he’s too overwhelmed. On the other nightstand that so far has been empty rests a phone in its charger, a book that’s clearly well loved based on its worn cover, and yet another gun. Bucky is curled under the covers, his back toward the door, breathing steady.

By all appearances Bucky’s asleep, but Steve knows he could be pretending. He knows Bucky must have woken up at least for long enough to register it was him when the door opened, there’s no way that would have gone unnoticed. He may have fallen asleep again, he may not.

Whatever the truth, Steve is glad for now that Bucky isn’t up and awake to greet him, it’s too much all of a sudden. He finally shakes himself out of his paralysis and heads to the bathroom. He throws everything he’s been wearing into the hamper and steps into shower, turning the water as hot as he can stand.

For several minutes he just stands there immobile, leaning his forehead to the tiled wall. He’s having a hard time convincing himself he didn’t just now hallucinate Bucky, because this wasn’t at all expected, there was no indication in any of their conversations that Bucky was going to come, and he is tired.

He finally washes himself, brushes his teeth, shaves off the stubble that’s grown during the mission, and as he’s drying the last drops of water from between his toes he has to admit to himself he’s stalling. He wraps the towel around his hips and goes to the bedroom, where Bucky’s nowhere in sight.

He doesn’t have to get paranoid, though, since the bed’s unmade and the nightstand still cluttered, and he can hear noises from the kitchen, unmistakable sounds of breakfast being made.

When he emerges into kitchen Bucky’s in the process of frying French toast by piles, and he sends a quick smile over his shoulder to Steve, who goes to pour himself a glass of orange juice, still stalling, because he can’t quite decide what to say. It’s obvious what he wants to say, the discussion they had during their vacation about where they were headed hasn’t been revisited since, Steve has been content to wait since he had the reassurance.

In the end, he just asks the obvious question. “Did you just move in here while I was away?”

“Yeah. I was actually planning on coming to just ring your bell, was on my way after my last lease ran out, but then I got the message you had a mission.”

“So you decided to come anyway and rummage through everything in here?”

“Obviously.”

It’s the first time Bucky’s been at Steve’s house, it’s relatively new and for several reasons during the last few months it’s just been more convenient to meet elsewhere, but Steve is happy to see Bucky’s already familiar with it all, clearly made it his home. And now it truly is a home for him too, there’s nothing more he wants.

“How many guns have you hidden around here?”

Bucky grins at him. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Steve goes to him then, slips an arm around his waist and presses a kiss behind an ear. “You’re terrible.” He rests his forehead on the nape of Bucky’s neck and breathes in, calm washing over him.

“Yes, that’s clearly why you’re clinging to me. Go make yourself useful and get the coffee going.”

Steve presses another kiss at the base of Bucky’s neck and goes. There are new kind of coffee beans in the tin, the aroma rich and spicy, and soon the fragrance fills their kitchen. As he putters around, setting the table and putting everything they need out, Steve relishes in the knowledge that this is not temporary, that the times of meeting every once in a while are over. He doesn’t expect them to settle into this without wrinkles, he knows they will still need to get used to living with each other again, but it’s okay. They have time, years and decades that leave less marks on them than on most other people. It no longer terrifies Steve, the idea of living possibly for centuries, because he won’t have to do so alone.

They eat breakfast with their legs tangled together under the table, and it’s the best meal Steve’s had in his house. The house that is now their shared home.

***

Entirely unsurprisingly it’s not even mid-morning before they’re back in bed. Steve is a bit surprised they made it into bed and not, say, living room floor, but Bucky insisted on proper christening. The added benefit is that in the comfort they can slow down, make it last since there’s no annoyance in the form of bruised elbows or rug burn.

Steve is on his back, ankles crossed behind Bucky’s hips, hands roaming over every last inch of skin he can reach. Bucky’s moving above him, hips rolling at a slow and steady pace, the kind that he can keep up for a long time. Neither of them knows how long exactly, because they always have much better things to do than take time.

They’ve been at it for a while already, enough that Steve has reached the state of mind where his world has narrowed down to Bucky, to the movement of their bodies, to the heat generated between them, to the sounds they make. Everything is hazy, sensations mixing up with each other, the warm breath against his throat where Bucky has buried his face, the cooler touch of his left hand.

Bucky props himself up again with his elbows, rises up to look at him, never halting the movement of his hips. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, holding tight, seeking as much skin contact as he can get. He can never have enough. The kiss is sweet, startlingly so, Bucky dips his head to meet Steve’s lips all softly and gently, contrasting the passion of his tight grasp and powerful thrusts, and it’s really what sends Steve over, has him moaning right into Bucky’s mouth.

After he’s dome Bucky relaxes completely on top of him, heavy and boneless the way he is only after sex, and Steve holds him close as he descends out of bliss.

He’s shaking, he only realizes when Bucky presses closer and hugs him tight. There’s water in the corners of his eyes, and laughter bubbling in his chest. He’s a mess suddenly, falling apart with happiness, the residual worry he’s carried for years and years disappearing and leaving him feeling lightheaded and confused. He believed it when Bucky said he was going to stay, but it’s only now, a few hours later that he knows it, that every fiber of his being understands it.

It’s a relief, and he’s maybe never been more grateful for Bucky, who doesn’t do anything but holds him tight, presses slow open-mouthed kisses on his throat and lets him fall apart in the safety of his arms, under his body.

***

Sometime later they’re back in the bed, having gotten up for a quick shower and a snack. Steve is lying mostly on top of Bucky, ear pressed to his chest, listening to the even breaths and the steady beat of his heart. His eyes stray to Bucky’s nightstand, and he reaches out to pick up the battered paperback. The cover is silvery grey, mirrors and glass walls, the title  _ Labyrinths _ repeating in reflections.

“I picked it up at Smithsonian, someone had left it on a bench. I don’t even know why I took it, not like I was thinking much beyond staying free and clear, trying to make sense of it all. There was just something about the cover. I started reading it on the way to Europe, there was nothing else to do and if I didn’t occupy my mind with something I felt like I’d drown in the memories.”

“And it worked.” It’s not even a question, the way Bucky has kept the book with him is a testament enough to Steve.

“It did. There’s something about the stories, they feel, I don’t even know how to describe it, displaced somehow, just off from everything I know. It helped to have a touchstone that wasn’t connected to anything I knew. Still does, there are days when I need it.”

Steve puts the book back down and hums, pushes himself up to press a kiss on Bucky’s jaw.

“What’s with yours, I saw the inscription.” Bucky gestures toward Steve’s nightstand, where his copy of  _ Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell _ is sitting. Well, technically it’s Peggy’s copy, the dedication inside the cover is from Sharon to her.

“You remember how Peggy used to read, whenever she had the time?”

“Somewhat, yeah.”

“She did, and she always continued, in the end she had whole libraries of all kinds of books, all genres. Anyway, she was already retired when this was released, Sharon gave it to her, and she gave it to me a couple of weeks after DC.”

“I’m guessing the timing was significant?”

“It was. There’s a lot going on in the book, but there’s a magician who’s so obsessed with his craft he doesn’t even realize it costing him his wife before it’s too late, and to get her back to safety he has to sacrifice a lot more. I think the point Peggy was making by giving it to me was that one shouldn’t focus too much on obsessions to the extent of losing sight of everything else that’s important, often more important than the obsession.”

Bucky cracks up. “Basically she gave you a book the size of a brick to tell you to have a life beyond Captain America?”

Steve smiles too. “Only took me about ten years to move somewhere else than the general vicinity of my workplace.”

Bucky pulls him closer again. “Guess we’ve both been dragging our feet, but I’ve come to the decision that it’s true what they say, late is better than never.”

Steve clambers over Bucky to straddle his hips and takes his face gently in his hands. “So much better.” Bucky meets him for a kiss, hands easily resting on his hips, one warm, one cool, not like it used to be but it doesn’t matter. What they have together is still the dearest thing in the world to Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head the first inkling of this story was the scene where Bucky emulates James Bond and storms a lair of wealthy criminals to save Steve, only to find Steve already in the process of saving himself, as these things go. Then I needed to figure out a story that scene belonged to, and it took a few unexpected turns, but I’m pretty happy where it ended up. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it too!
> 
> I’m also on [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/post/166640847502/recrossing-tracks).


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